Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Why maths is important
The lull in my blog is due to two reasons. 1. The gerbils reacted strongly, some might say disgracefully to the introduction of James Hunt (shunt) into the gerbils nesting parlour 2. I completely forgot my password post operation! I am writing this entry now safely esconsed at home in bed after discharging from hospital yesterday. My hairstyle is now very ridiculous, (my hairdresser may refuse to cut it the on the grounds that it is beyond salvage). I have what the shunt guy describes as my shark bite behind my hear which is rather disturbing and enthralling my kids in equal measure and I also have a c-section style scar on my tummy...don't say the gerbils spread that far!! Anyhow onto the business in hand. It's very odd the things I Became focussed on when I was most poorly this time and maths became very important to me. I admit I've always been a bit of a maths geek,( apart from the time in Mrs C's class when I was 13 when I rather rebelled). Being able to quickly work out quickly the time the next pain relief was due was strangely comforting, and as it turns out very prudent too. Hopefully most of you have never have nor will need to spend time in hospital for any duration so will not know the rigorous regime for meals, meds, pretty much everything. Two days post operation I was doing a great impression of someone who'd been on a three day all night bender, it wasn't good. The last lot of drugs( all above board) were administered at 8 am and at 10am sweet hearted nurse came in with some anti sickness tablets. "how long should you leave between doses of this one?" I asked, "4hours" she replied. Beloved husband gallantly pointed out that the time was not yet upon on us and she left only to return at quarter to one with the whole shabang of my meds. Lying prostate and very feeble, the gerbils rampaging, I drew on the strength of hubby and formidable yet loveable MIL who were at my side, and my knowledge of drug routine to whisper "these aren't due yet are they?", "yes they are" she replied, " every 6hrs" " I know but it's been less than five since the last lot" I offered. She paused, considered , and then looked at me like I was completely confused( which I was but my maths chip was still working). She proceeded to hold up her fingers and said slowly for me, "yes, 6 hours, 8,9,10,11,12,1" peeling down her fingers to prove the point. " no 9,10,11,12,1,2" I disputed. She repeated her finger count much to the bafflement of all present until MIL stopped the strange scenario with an emphatic "they're due at 2pm". End of conversation. The upshot was, the drugs were delayed which whilst safer was a hollow victory as I really wanted them at the time. My learning out of the experience is a heightened belief in the importance of maths for anyone's career. Needless to say I will be spot checking my daughters mental arithmetic in case they follow a career in nursing. I should just say the majority of my nurses were superb, caring, attentive, angels in uniform and excellent at maths.